Meeting - Morrigan

"What say you? Vulture, or scavenger?"

A grin swept across the dark-haired mage's features. He crossed his arms, running his eyes over her body and then scanning her face.

Apostate, huh?

"My dear lady, I am shocked," he gasped, placing a hand to his chest. "I am but a simple, handsome fellow traversing through the woods with my best friends!"

At that, she snorted, stalking her way over to the side of the ruins. "Cute."

"Glad you think so."

"Will you shut up?!" snapped Alistair, obviously wary. "She's chasind. That means others may be near by."

A short, annoyed laugh escaped the woman. "Oh? You fear that barbarians will swoop down upon you?"

"Yes… swooping is bad..."

"If they look anything like you, my dear," added the mage, "I wouldn't mind at all."

Alistair elbowed him and he grinned. "Ouch."

"Well, then." Her golden orbs settled on him, light and amused. "Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine."

"Ruhiel, at your service."

For the first time, the woman let a smile cross her features. "Lovely. You may call me Morrigan."

"Well, Morrigan, dearest," he cooed, knowing Alistair was gawking at his boldness, "may I ask you to help me?"